A Duck by any Other Name
by BrokenpenBleedingLead
Summary: A SHORT one shot based on a challenge/prompt night: Fakir will always love Ahiru.


The day Fakir finally managed to bring his words about Ahiru to life will always remain as his most precious memory. Finally, after years of trying, Fakir wrote a story that changed his beloved awkward duck back into a girl, well a woman by that point. There were no sparkles, no grand flashes of light. He simply put his pen down after what he had thought was another unsuccessful day of trying to harness his birthright. He went to bed frustrated, but not yet resigned. "The connection he had shared with Ahiru was not one that would let him give up lightly" he thought with a smile as he looked at the grown duck sleeping on his bed-side table.

At roughly midnight, Fakir would wake to a squawk and a thud. He would shoot up and find a bruised and confused Ahiru staring up (quite minus her clothing) from the floor. A flurry of blushes and hurried exchanges of sheets for modesty and the two reunited friends sat through the rest of the night sipping tea and enjoying the novelty of being able to actively have a two-sided conversation.

Explaining Ahiru's appearance had been rather difficult, but as much of the town had long considered Fakir to be something of a recluse madman, the fuss quickly died down and the two were able to outfit the small cabin on the lake for co-habitation. They had no whirlwind romance, they didn't feel the need to rush now that they had a Drosselmeyer free future to look to. Friendship grew to deep fondness, and that grew steadily into love. It was the happily ever after every story ended with, or so it seemed.

On Ahiru's 23rd birthday (or what they assumed should be about her 23rd birthday) Fakir came in carrying a bundle of wood for the fire. After stoking the flames for warmth, he bent down to kiss his lovely bride (how good it felt to think that). As he pressed a kiss to her antenna he noticed it was more silver than orange. Though neither knew it, this was the first sign of the end of their story. Slowly over the next 5 years Ahiru's hair would turn completely silver (his own great gray goose Fakir used to joke – that would usually earn him a knobby elbow to the gut) and fine lines would outline her large blue eyes. Then her knees would start to go. Fakir took to escorting her carefully when they went on their weekly hikes.

After Ahiru's 30th birthday resulted in her completely forgetting Rue's name for an hour, every night when Ahiru had fallen asleep Fakir would start scouring his old writing and any library book he could find for clues. He was making little progress. It wasn't until a year later when he was reading a book on duck's that Ahiru had bought him as a joke that he found the answer…

"The average lifespan of a Mallard duck is 20 years… average lifespan… Mallard… 20 years."

No matter how many times Fakir read the sentence it never changed. It suddenly all made sense. Ahiru had told him how she was just a duckling when Drosslemeyer had changed her into Princess Tutu. She may have been a 14-year-old human, but she had also been an 8 month old duckling at the same time. She had ALWAYS been a duck before she was a human. If that was true, while she was a 31-year-old woman, Ahiru was also a 17 year old duck. In despair Fakir spent the night desperately trying to re-write Ahiru's story. Several months of frantic writing, and great concern on Ahiru's part, and Fakir finally had to admit that nothing was changing. After admitting what he had found to Ahiru that pair spent a tender night talking over tea, much like that one so long ago (though now it seemed like not nearly long enough ago) when Ahiru had finally taken on human form again.

Things weren't automatically easy after that. Fakir would often blame his skills as a writer for Ahiru's rapid aging and Ahiru would sometimes question whether Fakir would have been better (less lost) if she had stayed a duck, but neither allowed the other to wallow long. While the hand they had been delt wasn't fair, neither one nor the other would have traded their time together for a longer (or less tolling) life apart. Fakir loved Ahiru's existence no matter the body (be it duck or aging human) and Ahiru was more than grateful for all the care and kindness Fakir had always treated her with. Fakir would always love Ahiru.

Fakir had always loved her. He loved her before he knew it. He loved her when he could no longer speak to her. He loved her when they finally could walk together again. He loved her as she aged with joy (if not grace). He loved her when she smiled and told him to keep living. He would love her even when he had lost her.

"I will never stop loving you, Ahiru." Fakir said to a cold stone that did little to tell of the vibrant, loving being that was buried beneath it.


End file.
